


nightmares

by mawtext



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Implied Shapeshifting, Mutilation, Other, Rough Sex, and no its NOT a vore thing, well it's not technically cannibalism but bo takes a human form so i might as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 23:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14681796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mawtext/pseuds/mawtext
Summary: Bo keeps having the same nightmare.





	nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> so, this isn't a whole long story or anything. it was a short, spur of the moment deal. i plan on eventually writing out the actual story of these two, but for now, it's just this cryptic nonsense.
> 
> also i don't know how to tag things so if i did bad please lemme kno sjndckjs

It starts out as per usual.

A touch poorly disguised as innocent, a kiss soft as the room’s lighting, quickly becomes something much more. Hands wander, exploring the hills and valleys of each other’s bodies, the crevices and wrinkles in the skin. A mouth travels from lips, to jaw, to neck, to collarbone, the kisses in some middle ground between sloppy and precise. Bo parts their lips to reveal the mouth full of knives She so adores, pressing tips gently against the flesh, enough to pain but not to scar. The gasp that follows is an encouraging word to them.

A little more pressure and a prick of blood swells up at every tooth’s end, eliciting a quiet moan from Her. The smell of iron fills Bo’s nostrils, the liquid metal taste coming in drops on their tongue.

To Her, it isn’t exactly strange when Bo continues their path down Her body, their lips making a path down to Her stomach. It’s the sudden stop there that confuses Her, causes Her to look down at Bo, who smiles warmly. Reassured, She lies back once again. And then She gasps, sharply, as something pointed presses into Her stomach. She’s about to look down when suddenly, it’s as though She’s been stabbed. Something sharp and long enough to pierce through the skin on Her stomach- and then it starts sawing. Cutting through the tissue, a horizontal line across Her stomach. Tears spring to Her eyes as She forces Herself to look down.

Bo’s expression is no longer a comforting one. Their grin needle-toothed, eyes wide and focused on the work before them. Her mouth opens, as though to say something- but She’s interrupted by a cry, Her own cry, forcing itself out of her throat.

Bo slips his fingers into Her, taking hold of either side of the cut they’ve made in Her and  _ yanking _ . An attitude that had seemed so surgical, even careful, disappears, replaced by one of malice and bloodlust. Their irises shift colors rapidly, their pupils dilating at an impossible rate. They tear Her open, the sound of a scream filling the air like music to their ears. Their gaze shifts, meeting Her tearful eyes, filled with fear and… something else. They can’t put their finger on it until She gives them a wobbly smile, and all control is lost.

They practically leap to a position above Her, forcing their lips roughly against Hers. She’s plenty happy to oblige, returning the kiss for the short amount of time it lasts before Bo has moved on. They sink their teeth into Her right shoulder. She doesn’t even scream, simply chokes out a moan. Red iron fills Bo’s mouth and their eyes roll back as they drink deeply. They’re something near intoxicated. Not content to simply drink Her blood, though, they twist and turn their head, tearing the shoulder meat off of Her with a sickening splitting sound. They wolf it down and move on.

Previously white sheets are stained red as Bo reaches into Her stomach, wrapping their fingers around a length of the small intestine and simply pulling it out. They hold it up for Her to see.

“Thanks daddy,” She manages, voice quiet and uneven. Bo laughs, She smiles weakly. They hadn’t expected Her to hold up so well during this. They move up once again, carrying the fleshy tube with them. They press their lips to Hers, gently, and pull away with a smile.

“I love you,” they whisper. Carefully, they lift Her head, and wrap the organ around Her throat once, twice. The slick, squishy rope lays around Her neck like a gory scarf. Bo takes two sides of it, then, and kisses Her. It’s soft, almost loving. At the same time, they pull the intestine tightly two different ways, cutting off Her circulation.

She tries to kiss Her lover, but the lack of air is getting to Her. Were it up to Her She’d go out like this, calmly, in Her lover’s lips and arms. Her body has other plans, however, convulsing, Her throat constricting and expanding, desperate for air. She does Her best to keep Herself restrained, to let this happen, and to Her credit, She does well.

And all throughout this, Bo is kissing Her, occasionally pulling back just enough to whisper sweet nothings, a smile on their face.

When She finally stops struggling, stops breathing, when the air is no longer able to leave or enter Her lungs, when Her heartbeat stops, that’s when Bo stops kissing Her. That’s when they sit up, letting their grip on the small intestine loosen.

Everything is quiet, but only for a moment.

There isn’t anything kind or slow or clean or loving about what Bo does. They gorge themself on Her, shoving Her organs into Her mouth, not bothering to chew half the time. They grab at chunks of muscle and flesh, pulling and tearing and chewing noisily, messily.

When they’re done and all that’s left of Her is the red stain that surrounded Her body, they leave. No last look at the room around them. No savoring of the house She lived in. They just leave.

 

* * *

 

Bo wakes up in a cold sweat, jolted into a position to sit up. The arm She had around them slips off of their chest and onto the bed. Their breaths come in heavy, labored, and their hands are shaking something fierce. They bury their face in their hands and just seconds later, begin to sob. That’s the fifth nightmare in a row. Everything feels temporary. They don’t know how much longer they can hold out.


End file.
